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Cwmfen nic Graine · 06-24-2010, 01:30 PM

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Sorry for keeping you guys waiting!

The one-eyed Raven croaked, his voice deep and harsh in the wordless space. But that wordlessness was soon filled with the sound of a name. “Reverent,” the soft Caledonian lilt repeated. “Hello,” she greeted once more. It was strange with the Woaded fae, but she always gave greetings to those whose names she learned. It was a strange custom, perhaps, but it was a custom that the foreigner believed to be respectful.

When Conor arrived, the soft smile upon her lips became more apparent, more golden, although to one who was not familiar with the Warrior, the subtle changed could have been dismissed as nothing. It was a pleasure to the black female to see her Alpha, for truly she did not see enough of him. It was a fault of her own, however, for the Dahlian Warrior was not a social creature, preferring still her solitude despite the presence of a family within her life. Although her family remained in a far land, she did not mourn their absence. Although she desired them, her mind accepted that she had returned to Dahlia as her Dreaming had called of her. And that was why she had returned to Conor’s pack. She recalled when she had first met him as an adolescent in the cabin with the fox. It was a strangely pleasant memory, for both, perhaps unknowingly, had helped each other. The woad-banded maw dipped respectfully, and the eternally erected posture of the Caledonian-Korean seemed to diminish without movement at all.

Once the wolf named Reverent had given her name to Conor, the synesthete listened to the silence that sang of ethereal melodies within her calm soul. An imperceptible nod was made by the woaded crania after the name was given, but the silence held expectant tones. When the silence chose to continue, the Warrior broke it, her voice soft as it joined in the world’s song. “Reverent comes seeking entry into Dahlia,” the alto tones explained for the younger female, as it seemed that she had not found it necessary to request a place herself. A soft breath—perhaps a sigh— was expelled at that thought. “She claims skill in hunting,” the Dreamer continued, “and has offered Dahlia a fighter.” Perhaps that was why the mind of the woaded female so completely considered the wolf named Reverent. There were often times when those who should not be soldiers were trained as soldiers, and unpleasant ends would meet lives of such creatures, whether that end was death or spiritual scarring. But whether Reverent would be trained by Cwmfen or another wolf was not to be decided then upon the boarders. The decision to be made was whether to grant acceptance or to reject it.

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